


fire on ice (unfamiliar ground is not so nice)

by atsumuthighs



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Akaashi Keiji-centric, Descriptions of Anxiety, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Akaashi Keiji, akaashi keiji has anxiety, although. the mutual part may not be that obvious, bokuto is caring and lovely, lapslock bc im lazy, yes basically a lot of this is abt akaashi's anxiety and he's very closed off
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:26:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25851295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atsumuthighs/pseuds/atsumuthighs
Summary: at best, akaashi's mind gives him a little more to think about than the average person.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Kudos: 32





	fire on ice (unfamiliar ground is not so nice)

at best, akaashi's mind gives him a little more to think about than the average person. 

a few unsavoury 'what ifs' cross his mind, slowly turning themselves into a trail of increasingly unpleasant thoughts. they crawl their way into restless hands and chewed up lips. akaashi swats them away, keeping them locked up in a little cage at the back of his head, and ignores them until they manage to sneak out again. for the time being, all ( _ for the most part _ ) is well.

whenever the uncertainties burst out of the cage unexpectedly, akaashi is taken by surprise; they take advantage of his vulnerability, consuming his body and taking it as their own. a loud chorus sings; ' _ am i really good enough? _ ', ' _ what are they thinking _ ?', ' _ why are you like this _ ?', and they get louder, more honest,  _ nastier _ .

akaashi's own voice is drowning, sinking. or, rather,  _ pushed _ to the bottom by unsteady, horrible thoughts clawing through to reach the surface. 

at best, his anxious thoughts and fragile self-esteem are tucked neatly into an old antique dresser, an impeccable composure and a small, ingenuine smile carved into wood. no one's seen the dresser, and anyone who does would never dare open the drawers. akaashi's grateful for this. anyone would crumble with all that weight on their shoulders.

on days where it's harder to keep them in check, the monsters burst out of the dresser by themselves, and akaashi could hardly disguise them as self-deprecating jokes, a little more than half-meant in nature, and the type of paranoia that people would dismiss as mother-like nagging. most of the team buys it. his family is somewhat aware, but if they know, they don't say it. no one  _ really _ notices. akaashi thinks it's better this way.

"hey, 'kaashi...?"

_ ‘ah, right.’ _

then there's bokuto —

"you don't seem too good today. what's up?"

— ever so observant.

he wouldn't get it. frankly, akaashi doesn't want him to.

_ 'today... i live like this every day, bokuto-san,' _ he longs to say,  _ 'i've just learnt not to show it.' _

"i'm fine, bokuto-san." he gives his captain a smile, although unlike his statement, it's not entirely fake; bokuto's presence is always warm, a comforting veil over his darker thoughts. he almost forgets they're there, just for a few moments. "just tired. i didn't get enough sleep." the thoughts were vicious last night.

"is that so? you better make sure to sleep earlier tonight, 'kaash — no one expects you to lose sleep over your grades, you know. and don't strain yourself too much at practice if you're sleep-deprived. we don't want you setting into my face, or even yours!"

the words are easy, comforting — much like bokuto himself, and  _ yet _ ...

golden eyes watch him intently. akaashi feels bokuto's hand on his shoulder, his warmth spreading like wildfire; but akaashi's used to the cold, so he flinches, instinctively bowing his head and shifting slightly away.

he almost regrets it — the fiery feeling had been so lovely, so  _ nice _ — but he could feel bokuto's fingers wrapping themselves around the drawer's handle, seconds of staring away from prying it open.

it's terrifying, akaashi thinks, how one bokuto koutarou could break into his walls just like that. after all these years of akaashi subconsciously building a foolproof barrier between himself and other people — protecting them, protecting himself from the risks that come with getting too close — here comes bokuto-san with his styled-up hair and pretty golden eyes and ever-present smile, demolishing his hard work, demanding to see the akaashi keiji behind his well-crafted, composed persona.

"hey, akaashi."

for anyone else, opening themselves up to bokuto would be easy, and akaashi finds himself longing to let his best friend — who, if he's being honest, has become someone worth even more — look through his monsters. maybe having someone to fight alongside him would make it a fairer battle, and akaashi wouldn't feel like he's constantly losing to the terrible creations of his own mind.

"...keiji."

but maybe bokuto doesn't know. maybe akaashi is letting his mind get to him, as always, and maybe he doesn't really care. or he does, but akaashi's demons are too much for him, and he'll never try to peek again. that should be comforting, but it makes akaashi's head spin ‒ the uncertainties are flooding his thoughts once again, and he realises why he doesn't want to have bokuto any closer; there's too many possibilities, too much that could happen, and he couldn't fathom how he'd cope with losing bokuto koutarou because of the stupid way his mind works.

so he does what he does best.

"i have to go, bokuto-san. it's getting late." he smiles, the world feeling too cold, the icy air enveloping him in a sinister hug, the mist from their breathing forming a twisted, ugly smile. "i'll see you tomorrow."

as he walks away, akaashi feels the golden stare piercing through his back. 

once again, he's unsure. he doesn't know why the cold suddenly hurts again, having grown so numb to it. he wonders if it's too late to run back to the area outside the gym, _into bokuto's arms_. he feels sick, yearning for the little warmth he felt from a mere hand on his shoulder, unable to drive off the wandering idea of taking that warmth from bokuto's lips, curled up into a tender, endearing smile as akaashi wraps his arms around the other boy's neck.

he tries to shake the thought off, willing himself not to imagine such an idealistic scenario, when bokuto is just as likely to push him away, stumbling a good-natured apology about not feeling the same way. akaashi heaves a sigh, the mist forming another wicked grin, laughing at his misery.

**Author's Note:**

> \- i wrote this on a whim across two maths classes so. well. i doubt it makes sense  
> \- the title sucks ASS lol i thought of it in like 2 seconds bc im in class as i post this and i need to do work  
> \- i just wanted to write again i've been itching to complete something for /months/  
> \- this is not beta'ed. well. i proofread it maybe once. but it's not that polished if at all  
> \- also lapslock bc like i said in the tag i am lazy. and it's a stylistic choice <3  
> \- this whole fic is nearly 1k words of me projecting my anxiety onto akaashi. it was quite comforting honestly  
> \- i think i might have gone crazy w the language features but u understand my brain personifies anxiety itself in so many ways. but i hope it reads fine anyways  
> \- tell me what u think in the comments <3 also i'm on twt @bokutosbestie and my art/writing tumblr is @moonlitstrings !! u may also yell at me there


End file.
